Los Jovenes
by Team Rosalie
Summary: "But instead of two highly-trained NCIS agents standing in the doorway, there were two adolescents."      A crime scene gone awry. The inhalation of a chemical. The jump from adults to teens.
1. Exposure

_**Los Jovenes**_

It was their turn to sit phone-duty this past weekend on the NCIS hotline and they had actually found a legitimate lead. The lead turned into a case about a semi-delusional Navy scientist using young petty officers as his guinea pigs. There had been no evidence discovered yet as to what the scientist was actually testing, though it did seem evident that the substance could result in fatal consequences for the testing subject.

Gibbs was beyond annoyed, mainstreaming black coffee like water, and the rest of the team was equally frustrated. Abby couldn't identify the isotopes and compounds that would create a substance of this caliber and cause these effects. Ducky was unable to find any lasting remnants of the drug in the two cadavers and there were no other obvious signs of death. Tony and Ziva had gone through every investigative technique in the book and still couldn't catch a break. McGee had hacked into more internet sites and web browsers than he cared to say. But no matter what they did, the baseline remained the same, nothing.

This all changed however when another tip came in. A different team was now fielding call-ins but they forwarded the message to Gibbs' team when they learned that the information related to the case that his team was currently working. If it had been any other time, then maybe Gibbs would have questioned this anonymous caller and tried to gain more of a background history on them before rushing in blind. However, this time they were desperate and running on less sleep between the four of them over three days than a normal person would have in one night.

If only they would have investigated a little more and gone that extra mile to uncover the caller's true reason for giving them a tip. Because if they had done that, then they would have found the truth and all of this could have been avoided.

"Tony, Ziva," Gibbs ordered, "Go through the back, McGee and I will stay out here if you need back up or someone tries to sneak in behind you. We'll follow in fifteen if neither of you come out."

Tony and Ziva nodded before skirting around the brick building towards the back entrance, sticking to the shadows to avoid being noticed by any of the building's possible occupants. Tony silently counted to three with his fingers before they simultaneously kicked in the back door and rushed in. They scanned the place before deciding that it was all clear and lowered their weapons.

The two-story building was broken up into a lab downstairs and a small one-bedroom apartment upstairs. Both levels looked as though they hadn't been cleaned since the Stone Age. The lab was equipped with scientific instruments and testing tables along with an eyewash station.

"Anything unusual?" Tony asked as he flipped over a thick notebook lying on a lab table. The entire contents were transcribed in Latin.

"No," Ziva answered while opening and closing cabinets. "Though he does seem to favor the Frankenstein motif."

"Movie reference, nice," Tony commented. "You wouldn't happen to read Latin would you, Ziva?"

"It was a book first, Tony," She replied, walking over to where he was standing, "And that is not Latin."

"Then what?"

"I do not know," She answered, speeding up the carpeted steps that led to the apartment level. She hopped down them a few minutes later.

"Everything appears fine upstairs, no blood splatter or apparent signs of a struggle," Ziva said.

"Guess this isn't our crime sce-" Tony started, but was interrupted when a hazy orange gas permeated the air of the lab and talking sudden became quite difficult.

As their bodies slumped towards the tiled floor, Ziva aimed her SIG but found nothing to fire at. Their eyelids slowly sagged closed and their bodies were rendered unconscious.

When they finally came to, they found themselves in adjacent hospital beds at Bethesda Naval. An IV was stuck in both Tony and Ziva's arms, administering low dose medication. The small hospital room TV played ZNN quietly in the background. McGee was sitting between their two beds, typing away on an HP Laptop.

"Mmmm…Probie," Tony groaned, "How long have we been out?"

"Two and a half, maybe three," McGee replied.

"Hours?" Ziva asked hopefully.

"Days," McGee corrected.

"Gibbs is gonna _kill_ us," Tony complained.

"Only if you stay in bed any longer, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, striding in through the glass sliding door.

"We were exposed to a chemical compound. Why are we not in quarantine?" Ziva asked.

"Well you were, at first. Your guys' tox reports came back yesterday and your blood's clean," McGee answered.

"Clean blood doesn't get you your own hospital suite, McDoctor," Tony refuted.

At this moment, an actual doctor decided to enter the pristinely white hospital room where the two agents were being housed.

"Tony, great to see you again, though not particularly under these circumstances," Dr. Pitt said.

"Brad," Tony acknowledged.

"And you must be the lovely Ziva," Dr. Pitt said, reaching out his hand to shake her own.

"Thank you, Doctor…" Ziva trailed off.

"Pitt," He finished for her.

"Isn't that…" She started.

"We're not related," He said, "Well, down to business, you have both been issued a clean bill of health and are free to go."

"Thanks, Doc." Tony smiled.

The three of them exited the room, leaving Ziva and Tony to lay their in silence.

"Wanna play a game, Ziva?" Tony asked.

"Are you hyped up on morphine again, Tony?" She said in response.

He thought for a second, "No, because then you would be too since they're pumping the same drugs into both of us."

"Ditch the game. Let's just get dressed and get out of here so I can go home and shower," She said.

"Or, you know, we could share a shower," Tony suggested.

Ziva chucked her pillow at him and it smacked him in the face. He grunted and threw it back at her.

The next morning at HQ, Gibbs sipped his coffee in the squad room while McGee was down in the Abby's lab trying to crack another level of encryption on a laptop to help with the investigation. Time ticked by while they agonized over the difficult, insolvable case. It was now 1200 and neither Ziva nor Tony had chosen to grace the rest of the team with their presence yet. At first, Gibbs had given them leeway since they were hospitalized yesterday, but now it was borderline ridiculous. Gibbs had never known Ziva to show up for work after 0700 and even Tony didn't usually go past 0900 without calling ahead first to deliver some lame excuse. So either they were both framed for murder by Iranian terrorists or something was off.

A few minutes later, Gibbs decided to give up on finding the two AWOL agents and went to see Abby, bringing her morning Caf-Pow down to the lab with him.

The elevator dinged as it reached its destination and Gibbs stepped off, heading towards Labby as Abby had christened it.

"Whatcha got Abbs?" He asked, placing the plastic Caf-Pow container down with a thud.

McGee made no sign of acknowledgement and went right on with his only semi-legal computer hacking and code-decryption.

"Well, Gibbs, in a word: nothing."

She proceeded to explain that while some forensic evidence had been found it didn't lead anywhere and whatever this substance was it left no trace whatsoever on any surface.

Tony and Ziva met up with each other in the elevator leading to the squad room.

"You're in late," Tony commented, leaning against the back wall of the elevator.

"So are you," Ziva replied.

"Yeah, but I'm normally in later than you anyway. What are you, five hours late according to Ziva-Time?"

Ziva glared in response.

"Hot date last night?" He asked jokingly.

"If you must know Tony, I was sleeping. Not that I've ever slept that long in my life. It must have been over thirteen hours and I slept through my alarm multiple times."

"Yeah, same here," He said dejectedly.

"Let us just go and continue our investi-" Ziva was interrupted by her cell vibrating in her jeans back pocket. She yanked the HTC phone out and checked the new text message.

_All down in my Lab. Try 2 get here ASAP. Gibbs really annoyed –Abby_

Ziva punched the floor number that would take them down to Abby's Lab and Tony understood instantaneously what the text had said. Ziva quickly texted back a response that they would be they were in the building and would be there in a couple minutes.

"He's going to be so pissed. We broke rule #3," Tony stated.

"Never be unreachable," Ziva finished.

"I must've flipped my phone to silent or something last night cause now I have like twenty-something missed calls from Abby, Gibbs, McGee, and Ducky even tried me once," Tony remarked.

"Same," Ziva agreed.

"Let's go give 'em some peace of mind that we're not dead yet," Tony said as the elevator stopped on their floor.

"I bet that's them now," Abby guessed as she heard footsteps approaching from the elevator.

"They better have a damn good reason for being late," Gibbs muttered under his breath.

McGee turned away from his computer and the latest search algorithm that he'd been inputting. He was really hoping that their punishment for late arrival involved something mortifying happening to Tony.

But instead of two highly-trained NCIS agents standing in the doorway, there were two adolescents, around the ages of fourteen or fifteen.

"Who the hell are you two and how did you get past security?" Gibbs demanded angrily.

"It's us, Boss," the male teenager said.


	2. Wannabes

Thanks to my reviewers:

_Dawnmarie1971_, _Ziva_ _DiNozzo-David_, _NCIStwin1_, _CivilianSuicide_, _._, _Betherezz_

"It's us, Boss," the male teenager repeated. He had slightly spiked light brown hair and hazel eyes with the build of a high school football star.

When Gibbs made no move to say anything, the female tried to convince him.

"Tony and Ziva. Is this our punishment? You disowning us? Some American tradition that I am as of yet unaware of?" the female teen asked. She was exotically beautiful with dark curly hair and heavily tanned skin. She was built lithe and well-muscled, like a female gymnast only taller.

Abby and Gibbs shared equally blank looks with no recognition while McGee was stifling laughter as if this was all one big prank.

"What do you want proof or something? What is the matter with you guys?" The male asked.

"Did Tony and Ziva put you up to this?" McGee asked, laughing.

"No they did not put us up for this because they are us…I mean we are them… I mean…" the girl trailed off.

"How much did they pay you?" McGee asked, advancing with his theory that this was all a charade and Tony and Ziva were waiting somewhere to jump out and yell 'Gotcha!'

"They really went all out," McGee continued, scrutinizing them, "They gave you guys their badges and everything. I can't believe Ziva parted with her gun long enough to give it to you. Those are even Tony's expensive Italian shoes."

"They're _my_ shoes, Probie, and what are you guys on about anyway? Of course we're Tony and Ziva. This isn't _Freaky Friday: NCIS Edition_!" the guy exclaimed.

"What is a 'Freaky Friday' and why would there be an NCIS version of it?" The girl asked in a very Ziva-like fashion.

"It's a movie, Ziva, starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan in the remake of an older film. It's about this mother and daughter who…" the teenage guy stopped short. "Never mind, I'll tell you later."

The two teenagers definitely spoke and acted like the two MIA agents but that did not mean that they _were_ them. It could just be good training.

"Okay, fine, we will play along to your little trick. What do you want? Identification? Information? DNA?" the girl demanded.

"Boss, come on, it's not funny anymore," the teen boy complained.

"Gibbs, can I speak to you a minute?" Abby asked politely, nodding her head toward the back to indicate that she meant in private.

"Sure Abbs," Gibbs answered.

"Abby please?" the teen boy asked, almost to the point of begging. She cast him a wary glance but led Gibbs into an inner-more section of her lab.

"Gibbs, what if it_ is_ them?" she asked

"Abby that's impossible," he refuted.

"Is it? Is it really? Because remember the unidentifiable compound, what if this is what it does?"

"Great theory, Abbs, except all of those petty officers died as a result of exposure and those two appear perfectly healthy."

"Maybe it reacts differently with certain people and Tony and Ziva are the lucky few where fatalities weren't an outcome."

"We'll test their DNA if it makes you feel any better. Okay?" He offered.

"Thanks, Gibbs," She reached over and hugged him before entering the code that would open up the double doors.

Striding powerfully back into the lab, Abby ordered, "Mouths open!"

"Why?" the teen boy asked.

"They're getting DNA," the girl replied in a tone that clearly implied 'duh'.

"I feel like I'm getting convicted for murder again," the guy remarked, annoyed. Abby swabbed both of their mouths for DNA and gave the DNA-infested swabs to Gibbs to bring down to Ducky for testing.

"It's either this or we draw blood, kid," McGee commented.

"Kid! McGee, I'm _older _than you," the teen guy said.

Leaning over, Abby whispered in McGee's ear, "Maybe they don't know."

"You guys do know you're teenagers right? I doubt you're even old enough to get your license," McGee informed them.

"No, we're not, McGoo, and the entertainment value on this joke wore off when you started checking us over like criminals. I'm Senior Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of the Naval Criminal Investigative Department and Ziva's our Probette," the guy clarified. The girl stomped on his left foot with her square boot heel. The teen boy mouthed _'_ow' in her direction.

"And you've both looked in a mirror today?" Abby questioned.

"Yes!" the two teenagers replied indignantly.

"You might be Tony and Ziva, but you're definitely teenagers. Come with me," Abby said.

The two adolescents followed her as she led them to a part at the back of her lab where a full length mirror two people wide was attached to the wall.

"Okay," Abby commanded, "Now stand in front of this for five minutes."

McGee watched silently from the sidelines, waiting to see Abby's plan unfold. By now, Tony and Ziva had given up hope that this pestering little game would end soon and they were willing to do whatever it took to help it along. So, reluctantly, they shuffled towards the tall mirror on the other side of the lab.

At first nothing happed and all they perceived were their normal reflections, a 20-something Ziva and a 30-something Tony, but after a couple minutes of observation, the images in the mirror began to distort, morphing from their original reflection into more youthful portrayals. The early signs of wrinkles on Tony's face disappeared, replaced by perfectly tight skin. The slights bags under Ziva's eyes, brought on by years of always being alert and adrenaline-fueled, vanished. The planes on both their faces shifted to create the countenance of a teenager. The crinkles and crows feet around their eyes were gone as though they never existed. Their hair was more vivacious and full now.

They noticed how suddenly their clothes seemed just a smidge too big, caused by growing that their teenage bodies had yet to experience. The small love handles that Tony had accumulated from eating a few too many desserts over the years vanished like partiers at an illegal Kegger when the cops show up. Ziva guessed that if she was to look, she would find no scars marring her back or any other surface of her skin.

And when they glanced at each other, they saw the other as a teenager rather than an adult.

"We're teenagers!" Tony exclaimed happily while Ziva continued to marvel at their changed appearances.

The girly, teenager part of Ziva wanted to bounce up and down like Abby after too much Caf-Pow. Ziva quickly squelched that desire.

The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard as Gibbs entered the main section of Labby. The two excited teenagers went out to hear the verdict. They were still investigators after all, even if they were trapped in teenage shells.

Slapping down the manila folder containing the DNA results, Gibbs stated, "It's not a match."

And their moods plummeted.


	3. Change

"What?" The two teenagers exclaimed simultaneously. Even McGee was pretty convinced that the two high-school age minors standing near him were the AWOL agents.

Abby scooped up the discarded folder containing the test results and scanned the data, searching for a flaw in the analysis that would prove otherwise. Gibbs inclined his head to study the two adolescents claiming to be Tony and Ziva. He had observed their mannerisms and personalities thus far and, due to the striking similarities, he would have believed they truly _were_ his agents. However, DNA testing doesn't lie.

The two wannabes were desperately attempting to find a loophole they could escape through that would prove their innocence and exonerate them. Surely if they spilled a few team-only secrets then Gibbs and the others would have to believe them. Right?

A split-second before Gibbs could escort the two quasi party-crashers out of the lab, Abby found it: the flaw in the logic, the hidden truth in the test.

"Wait!" She nearly screamed, loud enough that had there been any passers-by in the hall she would have startled them. The rest of Team Gibbs stared at her expectantly, the two teens with hope shining in their eyes at the chance of success.

"See, it occurred to me before," Abby began, directly addressing the young Tony and Ziva, "while Gibbs was having Ducky execute the test that something along the lines of this might happen. It makes sense, because not only are you over a decade younger, you're _unnaturally_ younger. So of course a standard DNA test would show conflicting results since their genetic compositions were transformed so abruptly and chemically."

Abby indicated the diagram depicting contrasting DNA on the stark-white printer paper.

"The difference between the two is that their new DNA holds small concentrations of the chemical used to change them. This morphed their DNA graph to illustrate a change in genetic make-up. If you were to extricate the presence of the foreign substance, then their DNA would be an exact match." Abby smiled, pleased with herself for discovering the anomaly and saving her friends.

"Abby, I could just kiss you right now," the teen guy, who was now proved to be Tony announced, "Except I'm underage and it could be counted as sexual harassment."

He settled for a thank-you hug instead with Abby enthusiastically returning it.

"I'm really sorry for not believing you guys," McGee hurriedly apologized, trying to avoid any altercation with either of them since he knew Ziva was still just as handy with the paperclips and Tony could probably still bench-press more than he could.

"It is fine, McGee," Ziva said, allowing the scared agent forgiveness. Tony, on the contrary, was not in a forgive-and-forget mood.

"You didn't believe me, Probie!" the teenage Tony pointed out, "You thought I was some dumb kid!"

"Well, actually Tony, I'm guessing you kind-of are now," Abby added, failing in her attempts to hide laughter. "Not that I think any lesser of you now or anything."

"Not. Funny."

After many jokes at either Tony or McGee's expense, the conversation slowly transitioned to issues of a more serious matter. There was debate about how to proceed from here. Could Abby produce a viable antidote to change them back? (Abby was adamant that she could.) Above all else, what the hell was Tony and Ziva supposed to do in the intermission? (Tony was all for an extended vacation in the Virgin Islands.)

"They have to cut all ties to adult Tony and Ziva," McGee ventured. "Delete Facebook, MySpace, everything."

"They need new identities," Abby concurred, swiveling in a 360-degree turn on her lab stool.

Tony and Ziva had to fabricate backgrounds for themselves, creating whole new identities out of scratch. Ziva was not an ex-Mossad-turned-NCIS-agent, she was a fifteen year old girl whose mother died young and her father worked overseas in commerce. Tony no longer had a con-man father and a dead alcoholic mother; he was now the son of a widowed career-woman, focused solely on her job as a successful immunologist in California. They were both emancipated minors and learned to care for themselves at a young age. It was almost as if they were adults. Yeah, right.

The two of them spent most of their time down in Abby's lab since they were trying to keep their sudden youthfulness under wraps. They'd been taking advantage of their unused leave time because when one worked for Gibbs, one _never _got an opportunity to take more than a single day off at a time, if that.

Tony leaned casually against the metal counter as he had done countless times before, playing Tetris on his Droid phone. Ziva examined her throwing knife then switched to cleaning its metal surface until it shined. Abby flitted around the lab, attempting to find an antidote to their current condition, even if said condition did serve as a constant source of amusement to her.

"So, Tony, had any hot dates lately?" Abby asked inquisitively.

The teenage DiNozzo spun a tale of a girls' Varsity soccer team who had discussed in hushed whispers his various assets. Ziva scoffed in the background while this story was told.

"How did you even have time for this?" Ziva retorted.

"Unlike you, who fills her entire day with running and ninja-training, I actually have free time so I hit the local Starbucks at five, turns out that's when all the teams finish practice." He grinned that cocky, DiNozzo smile.

"Great, that's productive," Ziva muttered under breath.

This was one of the few times that Tony and Ziva were allowed in the bullpen since it was ten hundred hours on a Thursday and all self-respecting agents had left for the night. Too bad that Gibbs' team didn't qualify as one of them. Tony and Ziva weren't permitted to work cases because, well, that probably broke a couple of child labor laws and any evidence they found was inadmissible in court. McGee was forced to work extra in order to compensate for Tony and Ziva's absence. If they kept this up any longer, Gibbs would be obligated to hire temporary replacements for his too-young agents.

As McGee finished up the paperwork for the latest case involving a Marine wife and an unfortunate accident with a paper shredder (it really was an accident), Gibbs strode into the cluster of desks, caffeinated coffee in hand even though it was ten at night.

There was a heavy thud of thick papers skidding across two work desks. The packet of papers thrown onto Tony's desk collided with his propped-up shoes.

"What's this for?" Ziva asked curiously, flipping over her packet of papers that she now realized was a catalog.

"Course selections," Gibbs answered bluntly, "You start high school next week."


End file.
